Indian by heritage, British by birth – it’s taken me years to feel comfortable straddling two worlds

I sat with my Dad in lockdown as he recounted seeing jelly for the first time on his journey from India to England. “The English eat food that wobbles!” His eyes lit up as he reminisced. 

Before I knew it both Mum and Dad were competing to share their favourite anecdotes. I watch in hysterics, wishing I’d initiated these conversations years ago.

But I can’t help but envy my parents' strong sense of identity. Indian first, British second. My identity, on the other hand, feels confused, which explains the constant habit of using my parents "backstory" to shy away from my own.

I recall my parents' expression when I starting asking questions about their lives around the dinner table. They seemed curious, suspicious even, as to why I was so intrigued by their stories.

The significance of their epic journey to a foreign land now seemed insignificant to them, as if they had been conditioned very quickly upon their arrival at “the gate” to leave all luggage behind closed doors.

For years I made jokes about the "white" names my uncles had randomly selected for themselves, but it suddenly didn’t feel as funny when I found myself walking into rooms having inherited the same conditioned behaviour. 

To just “fit in”, keep my head down, don’t ruffle any feathers, and be grateful that I've been lucky enough to secure a place at the table. A “place”, that I’d led myself to believe, could be taken away at any given moment, especially if I were to stray away from the beaten path or dare to tell people what I really think.

Unlike my parents, I was born in England – but for years I was unsure what I should refer to myself as, British or Indian?

If I say “Indian” it feels uncomfortable, like the sweater my parents bought me for Christmas, which doesn’t fit but I wear it anyway. And when I say “British”, it feels like I’ve just ripped off said sweater in front of my parents’ disapproving faces.

It took time to find out what fits. What was my story? Why did I feel like I was denying a huge part of myself all these years by trying to fit into one camp or the other?

It felt like it was a race to succeed, every person for themselves, where being good at what you do wasn’t quite good enough. And success wasn’t just my success, it was the success of the entire South Asian community, and my failures were their failures too.

I’ve sometimes put so much pressure on myself to please others, I’ve felt unimportant, and trapped in this awkward space between two worlds, which seems mixed, unlabelled, lonely, and unclear. 

In truth, this is no longer the predicament I thought it was – because deep down I have realised its actually where I feel most happy. This is “space” that can’t be compartmentalised, it’s neither one nor the other. To exist freely in it, and own it, is of course bound to make me anxious at times – it goes against everything I’ve been conditioned to believe.

But being uninhibited by the fear of failure gives me the confidence to go against the grain. I can walk into that room, sit at that table, with my head high, unapologetic, and without feeling like I’m so darn lucky to be there. When I think of it like that, I feel free to just do me, and that’s empowering.  

This is also my chance to be inspired by the next generation of amazing British South Asian talent who seem unthreatened, and wear the "best of both" with immense pride. Who strive not just to have a seat at the table but to build their own seat, at their own tables. And who are unafraid to make the effort to connect with that one other brown person in a white room, bound by the community they come from – but with their own unique story. 

Sacha Dhawan is an actor from Greater Manchester, who starred in The History Boys, Marvel's Iron Fist and Doctor Who, he’s due to star in The Great coming to Channel 4 in January 2021.